Holiday with a Stranger (3 page)

‘I can already tell you’ve got magic hands,’ he said.

From the tone of his voice he was clearly enjoying winding her up, and she kicked herself for allowing him to make her so jittery. Putting her fingers back into his hair, she pulled it harder this time, in an attempt to show him who was in charge.

He chuckled: a low, seductive sound that made her mouth water.

Flipping heck, Josie, pull it together.

After taking a first tentative snip—and finding it actually seemed to look okay—she worked her way around his head, cutting the top first, to reveal the smooth, darker underside of his hair.

Heat rose from his scalp as she worked and her stiff fingers warmed up, allowing her to cut faster. She pictured her own hairdresser, Lenny, and focused on what he did when cutting her hair, working her way carefully.

It felt odd not to talk while she worked, and the silence lay thick and heavy in the large kitchen. What the hell was she supposed to talk about? What would Lenny do?

Make small talk. You can do that, right? Just say something, Josie. Anything.

‘You know, you look nothing like I expected,’ she said.

‘No?’ His voice was infused with amusement.

‘You’re so...’ She willed her addled brain to come up with any word except the one fighting to get out.

She lost.

‘Big.’

He turned to catch her eye and she looked away quickly, so as not to get sucked into flirty banter with him—not when she was so close she could inhale the minty aroma of his toothpaste and the dark undertones of whatever product he used on his body that made him smell so—what was the word?
Appetising...

Thank God for the soothing action of lifting and snipping at his hair. Mercifully, it helped her maintain focus, although her cool was shot to pieces.

‘Judging by your complexion and the size of your frame I’m guessing there’s some Scandinavian blood in there somewhere?’ she barrelled on.

‘Icelandic.’

‘I’d never have guessed that from your sister—she’s so dark. Hair
and
complexion.’ Okay, this was good. Well, better. Sort of...

‘She got the French blood.’

‘On your mother’s side?’
Lift, pull, snip.

‘Yeah, my paternal grandmother was French. This was her home. She left it to me and Abi when she died.’

There was a change in his posture and a new tension in his jaw that made her wonder what he’d omitted from that statement. A memory of Abi telling her their grandmother was the only person Connor had ever cared about swam into her mind.

She paused, not quite sure how to frame her next question. ‘Abi says she hasn’t seen you in a long time?’

His head moved up a notch as his shoulders stiffened. ‘No.’

She waited for him to elucidate but the silence stretched on.

‘I think she’d like to see you sometime.’

‘Hmm...’

She’d hit a conversational roadblock. Another approach, maybe? ‘So what keeps you so busy?’

‘I travel a lot.’ His tone was dismissive, as if he were closing down this conversation too.

Don’t give up, Josie.

‘You’ve just got back from somewhere?’

‘South America. I’m leaving for India in a few days.’

Abi hadn’t told her much about Connor—only that he was always on the move and never came to England to see her. They’d been on a rare night out and three cocktails down when she’d talked about him. There had been a heavy sadness to her tone, and an unhappy resignation to his snubbing of her. His name hadn’t been mentioned since and Josie had tactfully avoided mentioning him again.

From Abi’s description of him she’d expected a self-aggrandising playboy with power issues—not this challenging, provocative giant of a man.

Moving round to the front of him, she made sure to keep looking only at the long fringe of hair left to cut. The heat of his gaze burned her skin as she shuffled between his spread thighs to get close enough to reach in. With shaking hands she took hold of the front of it, the backs of her fingers gently brushing the warm skin of his forehead. His heat invaded her and she experienced a whole body flush which concentrated into a core of molten lava in the depths of her pelvis. She wished her hair wasn’t pulled back so severely so she could hide her fiery face in the safety of its protective curtain.

After snipping at the length of hair until she was satisfied, she took a step back away from his weird vortexlike pull and dropped the scissors onto the kitchen table.

‘You’re done.’

He was looking at her with a curious expression. ‘You know, there’s something very familiar about you.’

Dammit.
Just when she’d thought she’d got away with it. She really didn’t want to talk about her sister right now.

She shrugged. ‘I have one of those faces. You’ve never met me before.’ He seemed satisfied with this answer, thank goodness, and threw her a quick nod.

Pulling off the towel, he dropped it onto the floor. ‘How does it look?’

Meeting his gaze, she willed her cheeks to deflame. ‘Actually, it looks pretty good.’ She was oddly pleased with how successful a cut it was, considering she’d never done it before in her life.

He nodded, releasing his slow grin, then turned abruptly and walked out of the room and up the stairs—she guessed to check his new haircut for himself.

Grateful for this small reprieve, she grabbed a dustpan and brush from under the sink and swept up the hair that had landed on the floor, her body humming with alien sensations. She hoped to goodness her face would return to some kind of normal colour by the time he got back.

She’d cleared up every bit of hair and made herself another drink by the time he returned, his face now scrupulously clean-shaven.

What a transformation. All her blood dashed south to pulse wildly between her thighs as she took in his new, clean-cut appearance. He’d pulled his shorn hair into messy spikes, and now his bristles weren’t obscuring it his bone structure seemed ridiculously and beautifully chiselled. He was the picture of pure, healthy, brute strength.

‘Okay. So we’re good here,’ he said, apparently unaware of the catastrophic effect he was having on her. ‘You’ve earned your right to stay.’

Sucking in a deep breath, she attempted to jump-start her brain into functioning. ‘So that’s it? Negotiation over? You’re leaving?’

He laughed and stepped closer to her. She took half a step back before checking herself.

Hold steady there, Josie.

‘You’re not getting rid of me that easily. You seem to be a useful sort of person to have around. I’m only going to be here for a few days, but I’ll take the sofa since you won dibs.’

Before she had a chance to protest he spun round, pulling open the patio doors and exiting onto the terrace, shouting, ‘Dinner at eight!’ over his shoulder as he strode away.

TWO

After making his
sharp exit Connor wandered down to the bottom of the farmhouse’s land and along the perimeter. In front of him the sun-washed landscape throbbed with colour, the vibrant greens and yellows of the rapeseed crops standing stark against the sea of lavender in fields that stretched for miles. In the distance chalky white mountains broke against the azure-blue of the sky.

It was his idea of heaven on earth.

He loved this place. It felt as far away from reality as you could get. That appealed to him. That and the simplicity of it.

He leant on the wooden fence and assessed what had just happened.

Josie Marchpane was seriously disturbing, that was for sure. He wasn’t easily impressed, but this woman—oh, man, did she have something. There was something familiar about her too, but he couldn’t put his finger on it and that bothered him.

When he’d found out she was here at Abigail’s invitation his instinct had been to try and get rid of her as quickly as possible. He wasn’t interested in ever seeing his self-serving sister again, and even less willing to entertain one of her friends in his house. But the more he’d talked to Josie, the more he’d come to like her. She didn’t buckle easily and he respected that.

Despite the dark circles under her eyes and the ghostly pallor she was hot. It wasn’t the delicate contours of her heart-shaped face that got to him, or even the endless expanse of leg hiding beneath those expensive-looking jeans. It was her almond-shaped hazel eyes that flashed with fire when she was on the defensive. He wasn’t used to being stood up to, let alone put in his place, and he found he kind of liked it.

He knew he had an effect on her too, no matter how hard she was trying to disguise it. It was visible in the flare of her pupils and the flush of colour on her cheeks; in the way her body turned towards him even when she fought against it. It would be hard to convince her mind to submit to him, but not her body.

He hadn’t needed her to cut his hair—he could have quite easily visited a barber the following day—but he’d wanted to see if he could get her to do it. He’d been in a playful mood and it had amused him—until she’d been right there, touching him, invading his space and warming his skin with her nervous heat. Then he’d realised it had been an excuse to get closer to her. He’d wanted to know whether she smelled as good as she looked and he hadn’t been disappointed.

The fact that she’d risen to his challenge despite her initial reticence intrigued him. She hadn’t been able to resist it.

He recognised an urge on his part to break through her carefully constructed wall of cool just for the satisfaction of melting her. He craved it. Just as he’d craved coming back here, to the one place that felt vaguely like home. It wouldn’t be long until he’d had his fill of sitting still, but at the moment it was necessary—imperative, even.

That was why he couldn’t pick up and stay at a hotel for the few days he had left before his next project started. He’d been aware of an unusual yearning for this place for the past few weeks, as if it had called to him. Something akin to nostalgia, or what he thought that might feel like; he’d never experienced it before. Usually he actively moved
away
from the past.

Wandering back up to the house, he parked himself on a lounger on the terrace and leant back, willing his overworked muscles to relax. He needed this peace and calm and nothingness for a few days before he rejoined the hurricane of his life.

The bathroom window above him slammed shut, jarring him out of his relaxing state and setting his teeth on edge. She must be about to take a shower. The thought of hot water sluicing over that curvaceous body and those heavy, rounded breasts was enough to give him an erection.

The trouble was, the last thing he needed right now was another woman problem. It had been soul-destroying breaking up with Katherine and persuading her he wasn’t the right guy to make her happy, then spending months avoiding her angry, pleading phone calls and sudden appearances out of the blue. She didn’t understand that the lifestyle he’d chosen wasn’t conducive to settling in one place and playing house. It had been an exhausting time. He was afraid that even a short, sharp affair now could leach the remaining life out of him, and he needed his mojo intact if he was going to keep the momentum of his projects going.

But it didn’t mean he couldn’t have fun playing with Josie. He’d be out of here in a few days, so what harm could it do to spend a bit of time figuring her out? There had to be more to her story than she was letting on. She didn’t seem like the kind of woman who could fritter away two weeks in the middle of nowhere. She had a nervous sort of energy about her that gave the impression she had more important things to be doing than just sitting and relaxing.

He wanted to know why.

* * *

She’d been well and truly had and it didn’t feel good.

Josie squeezed shampoo hard into her hand and thumped the bottle down onto the shower shelf in her anger. How could she have allowed him to talk her into embarrassing herself like that? She was clearly off her game because she was tired and stressed about the business. There was no way he would have tricked her like that ordinarily. In retrospect, she wished she’d given him a bald spot and an extra short fringe, just so she’d have something to mollify her.

What was she going to do now? He clearly wasn’t going to budge easily. She’d have to make as much of a nuisance of herself as possible and hope he’d get fed up and decide he’d be better off somewhere else.

She could phone Abi and explain the situation, of course, but she didn’t want it to look as though she couldn’t fight her own battles. And her business partner had enough on her plate as it was.

Shutting off the shower, she stepped carefully out of the tray and towelled herself dry.

The pile of dirty clothes on the floor gave her an idea.

After dressing in a light floral sundress, and drying off her hair so it swung around her shoulders, she gathered up her dirty laundry and dumped it on the bed, ready to take downstairs. Her laptop was sitting on the windowsill, where she’d left it in the hope that the sun would help dry it out, and she went over and tapped the power button again, praying that it would suddenly spring to life.

No dice.

A sharp pain throbbed in her skull and she massaged the sides of her forehead to try and relieve the pressure.

‘Join me for a drink on the terrace?’

She jumped at the sound of Connor’s deep voice, twisting round to see him slouched against the doorjamb of the bedroom. He filled the doorway with his immense physique.

‘I got the impression you wanted me to keep out of your way,’ she answered, nonchalantly flicking her hair over her shoulder. She wasn’t going to show him how nervy she was around him. All she had right now was her self-control, and she was damned if she was going to let that slip away from her too.

‘I changed my mind. I could do with some company and you could do with some sun.’ His gaze rested on her pale shoulders. ‘Do you spend
any
time outside?’

Truthfully, she didn’t tend to spend much time outdoors. She’d been too busy with work and had often ended up working at weekends to keep up with her heavy workload. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d just sat in the sunshine.

‘The sun’s very damaging to your skin, you know. You’ll be old before your time.’ She pointed towards his tanned forearms in a vain attempt to shut him up.

He smiled. ‘Full of vitamin D, though. Good for your happiness levels.’

Before she had time to reply, he pushed himself away from the doorway and disappeared.

After a few moments of arguing with herself about the wisdom of spending more time in his vicinity she grabbed her dirty clothes and a pen and notebook and went down to the kitchen. She shoved her clothes in the washing machine, set it going, then sauntered outside to find Connor reclining on a lounger, his shirt discarded on the floor next to him.

Great.

Josie stared. She couldn’t help it. His body was...well...
divine
. That skin—the glorious tanned sleekness of it. The way it undulated over the muscles of his stomach and stretched over the peaks of his collarbones. The broadness of his shoulders made her think of a superhero with their almost obscene size. She’d never seen such a magnificent body in the flesh.

Cue whole body flush.

Tearing her eyes away, she sat on the lounger next to him, barely managing to control her limbs.

He turned to look at her, a crooked smile playing about his lips as if he sensed her discomfort. ‘Help yourself to a drink.’ He gestured towards a jug of iced fruit juice and a couple of tumblers on a small table between them.

She eyed it suspiciously. ‘I’m not thirsty, thanks.’ She didn’t entirely trust him. There was something odd about him suddenly wanting her company, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on why it felt so dangerous to be out here with him. She didn’t for a second think he would hurt her, but it was unnerving all the same.

Dropping her notebook casually onto the table between them, she shuffled about on the lounger to try and get comfy. When she glanced up at him, he seemed to be sizing her up.

She raised a questioning eyebrow at him, fighting the urge to look away from his evaluating stare.

‘You work a lot, right?’

She sat up straighter, warming up for what she was sure was about to be some sort of scrap. ‘My job keeps me pretty busy.’

‘Thought so. You have that computer crouch people get when they work at a desk too much. The only time you set your shoulders back and push that magnificent rack at me is when you’re facing me down over something.’

How was she supposed to respond to
that
little gem? By playing it cool.

‘I don’t suppose you come across many desks on your
jaunts
around the world.’

He broke eye contact to pick up the jug of iced juice and pour himself a shot into one of the glasses. ‘You’d be surprised what I
come
across,’ he said, in that low, seductive voice of his.

The hairs stood up on the back of her neck again and she snort-laughed in response, blood rushing straight to her face in embarrassment at the awful noise she’d made. Picking up the jug from where he’d set it down, she concentrated on pouring herself some juice to hide her humiliation. The ice clinked in her glass as she held it unsteadily in her hand, so she rested it on her knee instead.

Connor lay back, linking his fingers together behind his head, a smile playing about his lips. He knew exactly what he was doing to her and he clearly loved seeing her squirm.
Bastard.

A minute went by before he spoke again. ‘What do you do that keeps you shackled to a desk?’

‘
Shackled?
Interesting choice of word.’ She didn’t dare look him in the face in case he saw how much she was floundering.

‘The imagery pleases me.’

He turned in the lounger to face her and her gaze was magnetically drawn to his toned torso. It was unnerving, being faced with a sight like that whilst trying to maintain a polite line of conversation.

‘You have a vivid imagination,’ she said.

‘It’s a prerequisite. I spend a lot of time alone.’

She really needed to get the conversation back on safe ground. ‘We provide software solutions for marketing and research departments.’

‘That must be fascinating.’

His tone was so dry she felt like dousing him with her ice-cold drink.

‘It took us three years to build the business to this point and we’re proud of what we’ve achieved.’

‘Good for you.’

He totally didn’t mean a word of it.

Ignore him, Josie, the guy’s a loser.

Grabbing her notebook and pen from where she’d dropped them on the table, she turned deliberately away from him and began to make some notes, forcing his presence out of her mind.

‘What are you writing?’

Apparently he didn’t like to be ignored. ‘I’m trying to reconstruct my tender document.’

He frowned. ‘I thought you were supposed to be on holiday?’

Josie shuffled uncomfortably on the lounger. ‘I am, but I’m making a head start for when I get back. I was doing pretty well until my laptop died.’ She gave him a pointed stare.

Connor let out a snort. ‘I can’t believe you brought a laptop on holiday. No wonder you’re so...’ He waved his hand in a loose flapping motion at her.

‘So what?’

‘I don’t know...edgy.’

‘I’m not edgy.’ She flicked her hair over her shoulder and scowled at him. ‘I’m diligent.’

‘Really? So you’re
not
heading off to the nearest computer repair shop later, so you can get right back to work before your head explodes.’ He mimed the explosion he was obviously picturing in his mind.

‘You’re funny. You know that? You’re a very
funny
man.’

‘I’m right, though, aren’t I? I bet you can’t stand to be without it for one day.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I can.’ She ignored the stutter in her heartbeat and leant back in the chair, gazing up at the slow-moving clouds above her. Her body was drenched in sweat. Had a heat wave descended?

Connor just grunt-laughed in response.

She chose to ignore him.

‘Can’t somebody else write your document?’

After pausing, she chose her answer carefully. ‘They’re working on it at the moment, but I’m the one who has the most experience in writing these things.’

‘So you don’t trust anyone else to do the job?’

Sighing, she put her fingers together, tip to tip, and waited for the irritation to subside. ‘If I don’t work on it now I’m going to have to do it when I get back—edit what the team’s done, that is—which will only allow minimal time to get it up to scratch before the deadline.’

‘And you’re sure they won’t be able to handle it without you?’

‘Based on experience—no.’

He nodded slowly, looking at her intently as if waiting for something more.

‘Why are you looking at me like that?’